hazel
by bluaria
Summary: she doesn't even know why she lives anymore. Hazeltail-centric; slight Hazeltail/Thornclaw. Rated for angst and slight darkness. One-shot.


_blood red petals entwine_

_._

She wonders whether she really needs to be here.

She's tainted, broken, shattered and a thousand other adjectives, she supposes. Everything she loved is, has, and was away.

It wouldn't make her more of the liar she is to say she doesn't care.

_Shedoesn'tcare._

Occasionally she wonders why she's still around, why she doesn't lose herself in the _ohsocomforting _embrace of death.

Perhaps because she's already wrapped in the twisted embrace of insanity.

StarClan has always been _generous_. She laughs bitterly at the thought.

She rakes camp with a single flick of her blue_blue _gaze - far too blue to be an actual Clan cat's eye colour and far too blue to be an innocent kittypet's eye colour.

It doesn't surprise her that even her eye colour twisted in its own discreet way.

She laughs again, but this time some actual _amusement_ laces her tone.

She wonders again, why she's still alive. She knows that StarClan has a twisted way of doing things but then again, they did lose an ally to Dark Forest. It would be natural that they would take out their revenge on her.

It's ironic that she has nothing left to lose.

"You need to eat."

She glances up, faint surprise clouding her blue_blue _irises. The mouse at her paws overwhelms her nose with tantalizing, enticing; almost mindboggling flavours.

She doesn't even spare it a glance.

"What do you what?" she asks, intending for her tone to be as sharp as the claws she relies on to fight.

She fails as it comes out in a small, soft whisper.

"You need to take care of your kit," he reminds her. "Every warrior needs freshkill to survive. Queens rely on freshkill more to supply their kits," he continues knowingly.

She glares at him. _"Our _kit," she corrects. She smiles smugly as he flinches from the verbal blow and she can't help but smirk.

He glances at her calmly. "Our kit, then," he replies, his tone slightly still calm. "You need to provide milk for him. So eat, Haz–"

She cuts him off with a lash of her tail, her eyes brimming with rage. "Don't you dare call me that! You've lost the right to call me that ever since you abandoned me; ever since, you abandoned him. _Us," _she yowls angrily.

He paces forward, his previous calmness gone and a new, blistering rage replaces it. Anger scorches his amber irises and she can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction.

She savours the fact she's the only cat who can break that façade.

He snarls at her, his eyes burning with hidden anger. "I never abandoned you, _Hazeltail_!" he growls. "I love both of you, but I couldn't handle it. I couldn't… I couldn't…," he murmured, lowering his gaze.

Inwardly, she smirks, as she knows she's left an impression on him that he's not going to forget. "You couldn't?" she hisses, her face contorted in anger. "You couldn't bear with the consequences your… _plaything_ left you, _Thornclaw_?" she accuses.

He leaps up at the accusation, anger dancing in his irises. "I never thought of you as a plaything! I will never regret the blessing StarClan–"

She leaps up as well, similar rage flashing in her irises. "Don't even mention that accursed group of cat spirits," she hisses her tone soft and deadly. "The blessing they supposedly gave was given by _me_," she snarls.

He avoids her eyes. "True," he acknowledges.

She glares at him expectantly. He returns her gaze, but there is slight affection lingering in his amber irises that she does not expect. She inclines her head, restraining the slight blush the taints her cheeks.

She's surprised she's able to blush at all.

She gazes defiantly at the tom in front of her, accepting the fact that she loves and hates him at the same time.

She loves the way he can rile her up or calm her with a touch or a mew; the way he makes her feel unrealistically happy.

The surprising thing she he can make her envision a tomorrow.

She hates his arrogance and cockiness; his self-assurance and the way he takes violence's side easily.

_The only thing she actually detests about him is that he gave her a taste of fullness and took it away._

He sighs at her intense gaze. "Just eat, okay?" he murmurs tiredly before sweeping out of the nursery, tail low and ears twitching.

She smirks, victorious and smug because she knows she won. His ear only twitches when he's bursting with annoyance and that's a feat, which she can only accomplish.

The enticing scent of the mouse drifts up to her nose and her starved brain registers she has _freshkill _and it's all for _her_.

She gulps down the mouse in a matter of seconds. She slowly smiles as she pads deeper into the nursery where _he _is.

He's fast asleep with his kitten-soft pelt rising and falling with every breath he takes. His small tail hides underneath his sleeping body and the only thing she can register is that he looks so _vulnerable. _His tightly shut blue_blue _eyes hide from the world and she knows that she loves her kitten more than anything in the world does.

Perhaps because her kitten is the only tie to the world, the reason why she keeps living; or perhaps the reason why she loves him is because they share the same shade of blue that doesn't fit in with Clan cats or kittypets.

All she knows is that she'll live until the world ends for him.

_._

_so keep your chin up girlie; because after every fall there is a rise._

* * *

><p>Hazeltail and Thornclaw's kit is Pricklekit. His pelt is golden-brown and his eyes are blue<em>blue<em> as Hazeltail would mew.

Reviews would be appreciated.

Would anyone like a story on Pricklekit? A multi-chapter? Say so in a PM or a review.


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